Standoff
by Viridian Magpie
Summary: Standoff, n.: a situation in which one force neutralizes or counterbalances the other.


Title: Standoff  
Author: Viridian Magpie  
Rating: K+  
Disclaimer: Good Omens belongs to Pterry and Gneil, not me.  
Summary: Standoff, n.: a situation in which one force neutralizes or counterbalances the other.  
AN: The wrong season but it's hot here and I was trying to think 'cool' thoughts (autosuggestion, you know)

* * *

It was January 25th 1927, 5:47 p.m. and the heavenly powers celebrated their first victory in years.

That is, one heavenly power did, the others didn't know and probably wouldn't see it as a victory, anyway.

"It's jolly good fun, isn't it, old chap?"

It was, Crowley conceded, if your idea of fun consisted in falling flat on your nose every couple of … glides.

He struggled to his feet again and shot a venomous glare at the angel, who seemed utterly unperturbed. Sighing, he took another tentative step-glide with his skates, watching enviously

disdainfully as the angel performed another little pirouette as if he were _born_ to do it.

The demon shook his head, grumbling under his breath. Really, if these bodies had been _meant_ to move forward on ice, they'd have been_ designed_ to do it.

It sssimply wasssn't natural.

"Ah, but neither are we, my dear."

Crowley blinked, then realised he must have been talking out loud. Before he could retort, however, the angel was gliding away again, looking like a queen on ice.

Clucking his tongue (and scowling at himself because this was a decidedly angelic habit), he took one more step-glide.

_Flop._

"Bugger this!"

* * *

It was January 25th 1927, 6:03 p.m. and the heavenly power was enjoying himself immensely. He had just executed a perfect Waltz Jump, his Enemy had not made a disparaging remark about it and, judging from the lack of curs- blessing, hadn't fallen in a good ten minutes (which, of course, must mean that he was finally enjoying the experience that Aziraphale had worked so hard to convince him to try).

In other words: life was good.

The angel did a little Spiral, stopped facing the lake and… stared.

"Crowley?"

No response.

"Crowley, are you there?"

Well, a little voice inside his mind remarked, that was rather a silly question, wasn't it my dear? If the demon had been there Aziraphale would have seen him, wouldn't he?

A small frown appeared on the angel's face. Surely, Crowley hadn't simply left. A brief glance to his right dispelled that worry. The Bentley, Crowley's latest outrageous acquisition, was still there.

He surveyed the lake again.

Maybe he –

No that –

But wasn't there –

Couldn't be.

He skated over. Sure enough, right where he last had seen the demon there was a _hole_ in the ice.

Come to think about it, Aziraphale _had_ heard a strange noise a couple of minutes ago. Something like a very long, drawn-out _hisssssss_ and then a short _splash_.

"Crowley!"

He rushed the last couple of feet towards the hole, skidded to a sudden halt, knelt, and was just about to stick his head into the freezing water when there was a _hissss_ and an icy hand latched onto his left foot.

"Er."

He twisted around and, amidst the steam rising from a new opening, gazed into the dripping face of one Anthony J. Crowley.

"Oh dear. What happened?"

Crowley glowered.

"I'm a demon," he snapped.

At Aziraphale's blank stare, he continued.

"You know, from _Hell_."

"Er, yes?" Had Crowley hit his head? The angel knew all that.

Exasperation showed as clearly on the demon's face as Godzilla would on the radar of the Japanese Navy.

"You do remember what happens when a _demon_ from _Hell_, you know, that reeeaaally hot place, gets angry?"

"Temperatures rise, but wh– oh … Oh!"

"Exactly." Crowley's voice was so dry the Sahara would get jealous.

A long pause followed in which the demon looked at him expectantly. Obviously, he was waiting for an appropriate response.

…

"Er. Oops?"

_Hissssss. Splash._

_Splutter. _

"Crow- (_cough_) -ley!"

* * *

It was January 25th 1927, 6:08 p.m. and the hellish powers celebrated their first victory in years. (It has to be noted here that most confrontations in the last couple of centuries had ended in a draw. Actually, so did this one).

That is, one hellish power did as he watched a shivering angel rise from a hole in a frozen lake and stalk away.

Well, the serpent smirked, that really was jolly good fun.


End file.
